Her Own Shame
by Rb
Summary: "If you say anything to anyone, anyone at all, I'll have to kill myself. The shame would be that great, do you understand? I'd have to kill myself. You don't want me to die, do you?" Keiko's story. Spoilers for Kodocha vol. 4. (Rated R for sexual content


The manga Kodomo no Omocha was created by Miho Obana. The English translation is owned by TokyoPop, and was done by Sarah Dyer. I make no money from this story.  
  
Her Own Shame  
by Rb  
  
Keiko never blamed anyone but herself for what happened. She knew she was a bad girl. Her shame was all her own.  
  
Most people, she knew, would blame her uncle. They'd say he forced her, he molested her, he raped her. She was just a child, they'd say. She didn't know any better.  
  
Keiko knew that was a lie. Even though she was a child, she knew what was happening -- welcomed it, in fact. She never blamed him. She loved him. And no love is more pure than a child's love.  
  
The fault was all her own. The baby -- all her own shame.  
  
---  
  
When Hizashi Keiko was five, her uncle Zegi came to live with her mother and her in their little apartment in Tokyo. He was young, and handsome, and he smiled a lot.  
  
His living in Tokyo was half for his schooling (he was going to college there, and hoped to get a job in the area) and half to be a baby-sitter for Keiko. Hizashi Hatoko, Keiko's mother, had a boyfrie7nd and didn't want to have to stay home to watch her daughter all the time. She'd offered her youngest brother free board in exchange for his services as a full-time baby-sitter.   
  
No one knew where Keiko's father was.   
  
The first time Zegi met his niece, he smiled at her, said he hoped they'd be very good friends, and stroked her long brown hair.  
  
The first time Keiko saw her uncle, she fell in love. Completely, totally, irrevocably.   
  
---  
  
The Hizashis' apartment only had one bed. When Keiko had outgrown the crib, she was supposed to be sleeping on the sofa, but Keiko didn't like it there. Her mother, sighing, figured it was less fuss just to let her share her own bed.   
  
Keiko was used to sleeping with her mother. She liked the warmth and comfort and protection of having another, bigger body with her. They kept the monsters away.  
  
When Zegi came to live with them, he got the sofa, which sagged and creaked as he slept.   
  
A week after Zegi came to live with them, Keiko's mother spent the night at her boyfriend's house. Keiko had to sleep all by herself in the big bed, which was even scarier than sleeping by herself.  
  
Around midnight, she woke up from a nightmare and screamed. Zegi woke up as well and came in to comfort her. "It'll be okay," he told her. "It was just a dream."  
  
"Stay with me," she pleaded. "If you do, I know the monsters won't come back."  
  
"...Okay. But don't tell your mother." He knew her mother wouldn't be back all night.  
  
He relaxed onto the bed. At least it's more comfortable than the couch, he figured. And so what if he was going to be the kid's living teddy-bear all night? He liked Keiko. He liked her a lot. She was cute.  
  
Once he was settled, Keiko put her head on his chest and snuggled up to him. Her breathing became deep and regular in almost no time at all. Zegi stroked her fine brown hair slowly, rhythmically, and tried hard not to notice the stiffening of his cock.  
  
What the hell. It was only for one night.  
  
---  
  
The next night, her mother stayed over at her boyfriend's again. Keiko couldn't sleep without Zegi touching her.  
  
Her mother showed up less and less. Even on the nights when she did come home, Keiko would find excuses to sleep on the sofa with Zegi.   
  
Every night, he would warn her not to say anything to anyone. She never did.  
  
---  
  
Zegi was dreaming, desiring, fantasizing, but he was confident he could control himself. And he could, almost.  
  
One night, to his horror, he woke from a fantasy and found he was caressing the place where Keiko's breasts would be growing. Keiko didn't wake. What kind of pervert was he? What kind of freak? But he couldn't stop himself. He couldn't. He wouldn't.  
  
He was doing one thing right. Keiko never had nightmares anymore.  
  
---  
  
When Keiko was eleven, he touched her down there. Her body shook as she asked what had happened.  
  
"Nothing," he replied.   
  
"It felt good," she said.  
  
He hesitated. "...When you're older." He bit his lip, aware he was making them both a promise. "Don't tell anyone about this, okay? The shame would be too much." He got up and started walking towards the bathroom. "You can't."  
  
Shut off from her comfort, Keiko's eyes filled with tears. Had she been bad? Was he mad at her? "I won't tell," she choked out. "I really won't, please don't be mad at me, Uncle Zegi, please don't, I'll never tell -- "  
  
"Keiko."  
  
"I won't tell, I'm sorry, have I been bad, I've been such a bad girl, haven't I, I'm sorry, I won't say a word, please don't be mad at me, Uncle Zegi -- "  
  
She paddled after him in her pink nightgown, the one she loved best because it made her look like a princess. And, of course, Uncle Zegi was her Prince Charming.  
  
"Keiko," he said, and knelt down so they were face-to-face. "I'm sorry...don't tell."  
  
He kissed her, on the lips. A grown-up kiss, lips and tongue and teeth included. Keiko didn't move.  
  
He broke it off. Keiko stared at him with solemn eyes.   
  
"I can't think of you as a child anymore," he said hoarsely. "I just -- "  
  
"I love you," she said.   
  
"...You can never tell anyone about this, you realize? The shame would be too much. I'd never be able to see you again. No one would ever want you."  
  
"I love you."  
  
"I don't know why you can."  
  
He kissed her again, and this time she kissed back. With one hand, he carressed her budding breasts.  
  
He wanted her as his adult partner. She loved him as purely as only a child can love.  
  
---  
  
"First I'll put in one finger, then later, when it's wider, two fingers. So you'll be prepared. I don't want to hurt you."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"When you start to bleed, you know, your monthly, you'll have to tell me. We'll have to stop then."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"You should relax. With you that tense it's hard to do anything."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"You're just learning. Rub me here. Keiko...harder. You're so...That's it. Doesn't that feel good for you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
---  
  
"If you say anything, if you say anything at all, to anyone, your mother or your teachers or your friends -- "  
  
"I won't."  
  
"If you say anything to anyone, anyone at all, I'll have to kill myself. The shame would be that great, do you understand? I'd have to kill myself. You don't want me to die, do you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"And no one would want you, either. They'd say you were damaged goods. You'd never be able to get a job or a husband. You'd have to drop out of school. You might have to die as well. You don't want to die, do you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Good. So stay silent. Never breathe a word of this to anyone. You love me, don't you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Are you ready?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
---  
  
A picture of Keiko at age 13 would have revealed the following traits:  
  
Pale, but with good skin. Wavy hair which just passed her shoulders. Pretty brown eyes. Slender, especially in her school uniform.  
  
Her teachers had little to say about her -- she was quiet, a good student but not exceptional. She didn't have many close friends, and hadn't joined a single school club.   
  
She blended in with the crowd. She never stood out. No one noticed her, not even when she started to get sick a lot and put on weight.  
  
No one noticed at all.  
  
---  
  
Keiko started her menstrual cycle in the winter of her seventh grade year. She didn't tell her mother (who was rarely at home anyway) or her uncle Zegi (who was job-hunting and crabby, even when they were lying together).   
  
She knew she should tell him. He'd told her to tell him. She knew, in a vague sort of way, that this bleeding pushed her from being a child to a woman. She knew he loved her when she was a child.   
  
She thought he wouldn't love her anymore, so she kept it her secret.  
  
---  
  
One day that spring, he came home early. She was cooking dinner for the two of them (she was a very good cook; in her fantasies, she dreamt of them being husband and wife, and prepared accordingly) when he burst through the door.  
  
"I'm home!" he called as he took off his shoes.  
  
"Welcome home," she replied happily as she ran to see him, wiping her hands on her apron.   
  
"What's for dinner?" he asked her coolly, before she could embrace him.  
  
"Y-your favorite."  
  
"Good." He sat down in the recliner with a newspaper. Slowly, Keiko walked back to the kitchen and finished preparing the meal.  
  
He'd been so cold lately. Keiko wondered if he knew her secret, the only thing she'd ever kept from him. She couldn't tell him...she was so worried she would lose his love.  
  
Dinner was excellent but strained. Keiko picked at her food listlessly. Zegi piled it all in without a word. Finally, Keiko got up and started clearing the dishes.  
  
"Keiko," Zegi said calmly.  
  
"Yes, Uncle?"  
  
"I got a job today..."  
  
Keiko's eyes widened. "Really? What kind?"  
  
"...It's in Nagasaki."  
  
She was silent.  
  
"I'm going to move there at the end of this month."  
  
More silence.  
  
"I called your mother...she's going to try to be home more often."  
  
"Oh."   
  
"...Okay."  
  
That night he took her again and again. Keiko sank into the bed like a doll, aware he was saying things to her but unable to put the syllables together.  
  
I was good I was so good I did everything he asked of me even when it hurt me I was a good girl I was perfect why is he leaving me why is he leaving me alone I love him so much I love him I love him he's leaving I can't be a good girl I'm so bad I must be bad or else he wouldn't leave me I love him I can't live without him why is he doing this to me why is he leaving me?   
  
---  
  
He was sick of fucking her, had been for a while.   
  
He had ambition. He didn't want her to haunt him. He couldn't let her spoil his chances. Severe the ties while she was still young, yeah. Nothing to tie him down. She wouldn't talk. She loved him, hah. She'd find someone else soon enough, the little slut.   
  
He was approachng thirty. He had to get on with his life. Find someone who could be his wife. A future, instead of just an embarrassing past.  
  
This was a mistake and had been for a long time. He had to get away. Leave nothing behind. This was a new job, a new chance.  
  
Goodbye, Keiko.  
  
Remember not to tell.  
  
---  
  
The day he left, Keiko threw up violently. She continued to do so every day for a week.   
  
Dizziness, pain. She convinced herself it was stress, a fever, heartbreak.   
  
She missed her period, once, twice. Her flat stomach started to curve. Her breasts rounded.  
  
Quietly, furtively, she took the train to a distant neighborhood and bought a pregnancy test from a small convenience store. It was in a dirty, cramped neighborhood, and Keiko felt cold and small even in the summer heat.  
  
A plus sign. Positive. Pregnant.  
  
Keiko wanted to die.  
  
---  
  
Half-remembered lore gleaned from locker-room conversations wafted through Keiko's mind.   
  
You can take a coat hanger, one of the wire kind, and unbend it so it's a hook, and stick it up there and it'll kill the baby. Or, you can punch yourself in the stomach, really hard, with all the force you can, you'll miscarry. Or, if you pay a certain man a certain amount of yen, he'll do it for you in his back room. Quick, clean.  
  
Keiko couldn't do it. She wanted to, but she couldn't. She couldn't even speak.   
  
---  
  
She wrote letter after letter, black characters on white paper. "Dear Uncle. How are you? The weather is fine. I'm pregnant. Please advise." After writing them, she'd burn them.  
  
She couldn't tell anyone. The shame would be too much. Her uncle would die if she told him or anyone. She couldn't tell anyone, anyone at all.  
  
The baby...this baby would be all her own.  
  
---  
  
Summer turned to autumn, and then to winter. Keiko's body thickened and her eyes filled with silent tears, but no one said a word to her.   
  
Perhaps if they had, perhaps if someone had reached out, Keiko might have told them everything. But Keiko stuck to the code of silence imposed upon her. She would not tell anyone. She could not tell anyone.  
  
She really loved him.  
  
---  
  
Later, Keiko couldn't remember exactly when the pains started. All alone in the apartment, she took off her clothing and laid down in the tub with a knife by her side.  
  
She pushed instinctively, not knowing when or what to do. She cried -- but maybe the cries were only echoes of the silence that surrounded her. She screamed...  
  
...blood pulsed flesh tore birthwater came forth shit smeared into the tub pain pain pain god save me....  
  
...and a baby's high, thin wail matched her own.  
  
Exhausted, Keiko rocked the baby back and forth in her arms. "Shhh, shhh," she told it. "If you say anything..."  
  
The baby kept mewling. Keiko took the umbilical cord, tied it in a knot, and cut it with the knife. She stared at it for a long time.   
  
It would be easy to kill it. No one knows it's here. You could smother it, wring its neck. You could cut its throat, that would be quick and almost painless...  
  
...I...  
  
With one hand, she brought the baby's head to her breast, and felt it start to suck the life-sustaining liquid from her.  
  
It was early morning on the seventh of March.  
  
---  
  
Keiko dressed herself quickly, and wrapped the baby in an old shirt of hers. As she turned the baby over, she noticed almost absently that it had three moles in a direct lines on its bottom.  
  
The new morning was grey, too early for even the most fanatic early-morning joggers. Keiko walked with the baby in her arms to the local park. Gently, she laid it down on the nearest bench.  
  
"I couldn't keep you. I couldn't -- I wouldn't be able to..." Keiko bit her lip. "I'm so sorry. I hope someone kind will find you, and raise you, and love you." Tears dripped down onto the baby's face. "I wanted so much to love you...I think I do love you...too much to kill you...too much to keep you. Without me, you'll have a better life...I'm sure."  
  
Someone was starting to walk towards them. Keiko stood up and started walking.  
  
The baby cried. Keiko didn't -- couldn't -- turn back.  
  
She never told anyone anything about it, because the shame would be too great.  
  
~fin~  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Afterword:  
  
I started writing this on the morning of the 16th. It was snowing...by the end of the day, the snow was so high I couldn't open my front door. The next day, I had to shovel snow...already, the snow was melting, and I could hear the water flowing.  
  
It's been a long winter.  
  
Why did I write this?...I like Kodocha a lot. I was rereading through the manga, and I stopped while reading volume 4. The part where Keiko talks about the father of her baby, and how she didn't know what she was doing...the image of a junior-high girl, hugging her stomach and kneeling alone, touched me deeply. I wanted to write about it, and I thought that my writing style was appropriate enough to pull it off.   
  
I don't know how accurate my portrayal of this sort of situation is. I imagine it varies from case to case, family to family...the hardest thing about writing this was continuing to let the words come, even when it frightened me. Especially when it frightened me.   
  
All of the methods of forcing a miscarriage or abortion are things I've heard of, in some cases directly. Girls' lockerrooms are a world of their own.   
  
I called Fuu-chan about three or four times while writing this whenever I was stuck or wanted criticism, and while she was (quite understandably) shocked, she still listened and encouraged me to go on. She also is the one responsible for keeping me from being overly poetic. Tara-chan, as always, was my confidante and helped get me back to reality when I got too uptight. Thank you, dearest friends. ^_^  
  
If there's such a thing as "mood music" to a piece like this...well, I listened solely to Tange Sakura's "My Wish" (from her 'Be Myself' album) on repeat while writing all of this. From the last time I took a break, it's been three hours...and I'm not sick of it yet. Wow. ^^   
  
Thank you all for reading. ^_^  



End file.
